Ophidiophobia
by Tikal Tyrant
Summary: A one-shot in which Kyle must comfort a very terrified Stan. Very short and fluffy!


A/N: I found this in my notebook and thought I'd clean it up a bit and upload it. Just a little Stan and Kyle story. After watching the episode You're Getting Old, my heart is in constant pain. I really, really hope everything goes back to normal so I can laugh at the memory of how freaked out I was. Darn that Matt and Trey. They really know how to get to their fans. My point is, Stan needs to get over his Cynical Ass-hole condition (not that I can blame him for some of that stuff) or else things like this won't be able to happen anymore! Anyhow, I hope you enjoy my little story!

**Ophidiophobia:**

"Kyle, c'mon," Stan pleaded, walking a good distance behind the other boy.

"No way. I can't believe you, Stan," Kyle called back to his supposed super-best friend. His face remained heated as he marched down the snow laden road. "Honestly, how can you agree with Cartman? Kenny's one thing, but you, Stan?"

The source of Kyle's discontent could be tracked to almost five minutes ago, when Cartman had blatantly insulted Kyle and Stan actually had the gall to agree with him.

"I didn't agree with him," Stan said.

Kyle whipped around and stepped up to him so quickly that Stan felt his heart skip a beat.

"So you disagree?"

"Well," Stan faltered. His eyes trailed away, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

"You do agree with him!" Kyle exclaimed. "I am not girly! What part of me is girly? How can you guys even say that?"

Cartman's insult had been about Kyle's lesser masculinity, claiming that Kyle was the "girliest" one in their group. Of course, Kyle disagreed.

"Maybe if you didn't rant on about stuff so much," Stan muttered. Kyle threw his arms up with a growl, stomping off again.

"Kyle," Stan called. "I was just kidding." Despite his plea, Kyle trudged on. "Ah-aaw," Stan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Why don't you just leave me alone?" Kyle said, cutting off the road and making his way into a thriving wheat field.

Stan watched as Kyle's form disappeared within the crop. He wasn't sure if Kyle thought he couldn't follow him, but he hitched up his backpack and made his way into the field after him. "Okay," he started, "so yeah, you are kinda feminine." He followed the orange and green of Kyle's clothes, realizing how well they camouflaged him in the wheat. "But I don't think you're necessarily, you know, girly," he reasoned.

Kyle felt his face heat up more in a mix of anger and embarrassment, but he refused to continue the conversation. He came upon a path within the field where presumably other children had carelessly walked through, and, deciding the damage had already been done, Kyle followed the trampled wheat. It didn't take long until he knew Stan found the path.

"Kyle," Stan called again, stepping on the trodden path. "This whole stomping around and getting all pissy thing isn't helping your case at all."

Kyle's fists clenched at that statement, but he still didn't want to indulge Stan with a response. He would have sped ahead, but his fuming was interrupted by a blood curdling scream behind him, followed by a rustling thud.

"Stan?" Kyle spun around, his heart pounding.

What he saw was Stan sitting on the ground, knees in the air and a look of pure terror on his face. His wide eyes were fixed on the ground between the two.

"What happened?" Kyle asked, hurrying back toward his friend.

Stan swallowed hard, sweat building noticeably on his face.

"S-s," he stuttered, his jittering restricting his ability to form words until he finally exclaimed, "Snake!"

"Snake?" Kyle repeated, scanning the ground. It didn't take long to spot the culprit. There it layed, thin and green and barely eighteen inches long, more than two feet away from Stan's feet. Kyle couldn't help but chuckle as he crouched down to the tiny thing. He recalled that Stan was not a fan of snakes, but surely this outburst was an overreaction.

"Don't touch it, Kyle!" Stan yelled, pulling his feet back and kicking them forward in an attempt to scoot back. Unbeknown to him, the wheat he sat on had bundled and hooked itself onto his jeans, preventing him from backing away.

"Dude, it's just a snake, "Kyle said, a hint of taunting in his voice. "A smooth green snake," he recalled from a past assignment on local species. He slid his backpack off and dug around inside until procuring a clear plastic ruler. Gently, he sat his backpack on the ground behind him and knelt to the snake, prodding it easily with the end of the ruler.

A slight whimper escaped Stan's screwed up lips. "Dude, stop. You're gonna piss it off," he pleaded.

"Now who's being feminine?" Kyle teased. The snake slowly arched toward the flat stick, silently maneuvering its body to slither up and wrapped around it. After the reptile was situated, Kyle carefully lifted it away from the ground.

"Look," he said, bringing the thing nearer to Stan. "It's not even poisonous. Don't be such a pussy."

Stan whimpered again as the snake got closer, obviously weighing down the end of its perch, threatening to fall off and onto him.

"Kyle, get that thing away from me!" he yelled, sliding his feet on the ground again.

"Don't worry. It won't hurt you," he said, his voice cooing in a way that was more directed to the snake. He lowered to his knees in front of Stan with the snake hovering over him.

Stan slammed his eyes shut and screamed, "I said get that thing the fuck away from me!"

Kyle froze where he was at the sound of the cracking, shaking fear in his voice, and he easily saw the tears welling up in Stan's blue eyes.

"Stan..."

Finally, Stan stood and jolted backwards, but before he could turn and hoof it away, his foot got caught and he fell on his butt again.

"Stan!" Kyle called, abandoning the snake and dropping to his friend's side. The snake took the opportunity to slither away.

"Stan, are you okay?" Kyle asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I wasn't, like, gonna throw it on you or anything. It was completely harmless."

Stan's eyes shot up at Kyle and he physically flinched at the sight of the tears streaming down his friend's face. Suddenly, Stan jerked forward and clenched onto the upper sleeves of Kyle's jacket. He shook heavily, and his chest heaved with harsh breaths.

"Don't," Stan sniffled. "Don't ever fucking do that!" he blurted, burying his face in Kyle's chest.

Kyle slowly wrapped his arms around Stan.

"I'm sorry," Kyle said, squeezing Stan. He realized now, Stan wasn't just afraid of Snakes. He had a phobia. A severe, irrational fear of snakes.

"Ophidiophobia."

Stan pulled back and wiped one of his eyes. "What?" he sniffed.

"A fear of snakes," Kyle explained. "It's what you have."

Stan looked away and blushed. "So?"

Kyle stood up, pulling Stan with him. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Stan said, his face turned to the ground. "I'm just a pansy."

Kyle pulled his arms away. "You're not a pansy," he said. "You just don't like snakes, just like I don't like pee. We all have stuff that freaks us out. It's part of who we are."

"It's not the same," Stan said. "I don't just dislike snakes. I'm terrified of them. When I see one, even if I know it's not poisonous, I can't move. My heart starts pounding and I can't even look away. And I definitely can't touch one. I can't even touch snake skins. It's that bad."

"Okay," Kyle started slowly, "fine. So, do you think Indiana Jones is a pansy?"

Stan blinked at that at began to laugh. "No."

"Well I don't think you are either. And you'll learn how to deal with it, even if they still freak you out. It all comes with age."

"You really think so?"

"Of course, dude."

"Thanks," Stan said sheepishly.

Kyle wrapped his arm around the other's shoulder. "No problem, dude."

"Could you just promise me one thing?" Stan asked. "Don't tell Cartman or Kenny about this. Especially Cartman."

Kyle pulled back and looked at Stan sternly. "On one condition," he said. "Tell me I'm not girly."

"Well...," Stan faltered.

Kyle gaped at his friend. "Stan!"

"Oh come on, Kyle. It's not like that. It's just..."

"I can't believe you. After all that," he growled, turning around and snatching up his backpack before huffing down the path.

"Kyle," Stan called. "Kyle don't be like that. I don't mean it in a bad way. Come back. Kyle. Aaw."


End file.
